"You up for some minor trespassing?"

Donovan had barely lowered his phone when it dinged with a response.

"Dude, of course. When and where?"

Donovan held back a laugh at his oldest brother's quick reply to breaking the law, despite the fact that he worked for the FBI. After typing out a time and place, he pocketed his phone, just as Link closed his locker.

"Here's another thing," he said. "Carter is an outsider which means she doesn't have this huge group of friends to tell even if she did know."

Donovan nodded but said nothing. All through morning classes, Link had given out reasons why a friendship with Carter was a good idea. He never once mentioned the single reason he wanted the relationship, but Donovan knew it. In a school where everyone adored the First Son, Carter had been the only to show she didn't share the same affection.

Link shouldered his backpack and the two of them headed towards the Cafeteria. Clusters of students walked alongside them, their conversations revolving around the influx of new peers and the typical teenage mundane topics that seemed worthy of hour-long discussions.

The volume rose as the pair stepped into the cafeteria. A line of windows along one wall poured light onto the tables packed with students who had found their social equals through hours of weeding through those that weren't worthy.

It was a cast system where the dividing lines were drawn by the gleam on watches, the tailored line of uniforms, the subtly of make-up, the richness of hairstyles. In the midst of it all was Carter, a single entity alone at a table. She stuck out like a switch blade in a bed of diamonds.

After getting their food, the pair surveyed the mass. Though Donovan knew where Link's wish to sit lay, he was also wary of the girl who had the most to gain if she discovered Link's parentage. In a world where secrets were power, this one would solidify her place among the peers that openly shunned her.

"You know the risks," Donovan said.

Link didn't reply as if thinking it over, but Donovan could see in the way he was already faced that his decision was already made. They strode towards Carter's table and sat.

"You're sitting with me," she said, frowning at them.

The tight line between her brows only confirmed to Donovan what he knew, she was cut off from the rest of her classmates and never imagined that position would change.

"Is that a problem?" Link asked.

Carter shrugged as if the gesture could underplay the strangeness of the situation. 

"Nope. Most people just avoid it. The reasons are probably obvious."

They were, any more clear and someone would have to be screaming them out through a megaphone.

Biting into a fry, Link waved the other half at her.

"Because you're observant, smart and have no problem voicing your thoughts," he said.

She gave him a lopsided smile, the look self-deprecating.

"Most people usually say smart aleck or a more negative equivalent to that. But yeah, basically."

As Carter and Link had an exchange about swapping her sandwich for his chicken fingers, Donovan watched them. Link's body was relaxed and the way he easily navigated the conversation around her told Donovan more than ever Link wanted her as a friend. In a place where he would forever be hidden in his half-brother's shade, she was someone who could shine the light on his presence. For Link's sake, Donovan hoped Carter's heart could fit him in.

Donovan was drawn away from his contemplation when a girl with black ringlets sauntered over to their table. She took a seat beside him, her back pressed against the table. As she crossed her legs, her skirt shifted upward.

"You're Donovan, right?" She offered up a smile that showed off her perfect teeth. "We had A.P. Lit together this morning. Since you're new here, I thought I would introduce myself. I'm Gabby." She held out her hand. "If you need a tour, I'm always free."

When Donovan didn't take her hand, she retracted it. Before he could devise a way to cut the interaction short, Carter interrupted. 

"Look, Girl Number 11, do you mind blatantly trying to make your ex-boyfriend jealous by flirting with Donovan some other time? Some of us are trying to eat here."

Gabby's gaze snapped to Carter, surprise, and annoyance burning in her eyes, while Donovan scanned the area, looking for the aforementioned boyfriend. He spotted him two tables over, the tightness of his jaw and the glare giving him away.

"I'm not-"

Carter cut her off by pointing to the angry male on the other side of the room. "You are and it's working. Travis is going to ask you to take him back. Do you want to risk that relationship for a guy who has already been approached by ten other girls? I'd say the odds are not in your favor."

Gabby's thin eyebrows edged together as she leaned towards Carter.

"Travis wants me back?" she asked, doubtful.

"Yes, though the reasons why are beyond even my intelligence," Carter said.

Shooting Carter an irritated glare, Gabby left, making her way to the brooding boy. After a brief conversation, they were kissing. Carter grimaced and reached for another chicken finger.

"How did you know?" Link asked.

The signs were all there, Donovan knew that most people didn't pay attention.

"In the thirty-second interaction she had with Donovan, Travis looked over here fourteen times with murder in his eyes." Carter held out a hand towards Donovan as if to calm him. "But I wouldn't worry about Travis, he's the kind of person who erases his test answers three times before going back to the original. I don't think murder is his thing. Most likely he would show up at your house with a gun, start crying as he pointed it at you and then shoot himself."

After a breath of silence, Link broke into laughter while Donovan made no reaction. The observation was accurate, if not a bit dark. A hint at the skewed way Carter saw the world.

"Wait, you know how many girls have approached Donovan today?" Link asked.

"Yeah."

Donovan's eyes narrowed a fraction, wary of the attention, especially from her.

"You've been watching?" Link asked.

"Sure, like you watch a wildlife documentary, where the lion is about to kill the gazelle," Carter said.

"I'm the lion?" Donovan said, unable to stop himself.

Carter gave him a patronizing smile, that irritated him.

"Oh, I never said that."

Chuckling, Link returned to his food. As Donovan began to eat, he felt the weight of Carter's gaze, the tilt of her head giving away the turn of her thoughts. A group of girls passed by their table, their eyes latching onto him and their smiles holding secrets. Though he noticed the girls, he dropped his gaze to his food, stabbing his salad already feeling how the looks grated on his nerves.

"Are you going to tell me why you wear fake glasses or should I ignore this fact?" Carter asked Link.

Donovan's hand faltered halfway to his mouth as Link coughed on his sandwich, his eyes watering. Carter handed him a water bottle and he accepted it gratefully.

"How do you know my glasses are fake?" Link asked.

It was an observation that had gone unnoticed for years and this girl had poked at it within hours of knowing Link.

"I'm going to pretend like you didn't just call me stupid and repeat the question. Why the fake glasses?"

Fidgeting, Link's eyes sprinted to Donovan, searching for a rescue.

"You really have no boundaries, do you?" Donovan asked.

"Boundaries are for those who aren't smart enough to see their way through them. Now?"

Carter looked between the two of them waiting. Link shrugged, though the action was clearly forced.

"I feel comfortable in them," he said.

"Right, ignoring the fake glasses fact," Carter said, going back to her food.

The disregard of the topic didn't ease any of Donovan's apprehension, only seemed to heighten his caution about this girl. Beside him though, Link relaxed.

"I'm starting to understand a little more the reason for the empty table."

"No one asked you to sit here." She motioned to herself. "I sure didn't."

Again there was the obvious barrier of carelessness about companionship as if repeating the fact that she didn't need friends would somehow make it true. 

"Why leave when you are the most entertaining person I've met all day?" Link said.

Carter bowed mockingly. "My only aim in life is to please."

Link snorted and shook his head at her. A spike of laughter hit the air as a triumvirate guys walked past, their uniforms tailored, Rolex watches peeking out beneath their jacket sleeves and wealth spilling out of every pore. Link's hands curled into half fists as he saw the First Son was among the group. Donovan simply touched his elbow to Link's arm, a reminder to Link that he was right there, he wasn't alone.

"It appears I'm not the only one who's not a fan of Mason Douglas, First Son, future 'Savior of America'," Carter said.

The comment made Link start and he hid his hands away.

"What would make you say that?" he asked.

Exasperated, Carter threw her arms out to the side.

"Seriously?" she said. "Do I have a stupid sign on my forehead or something? I'm not blind. Anyone with half a brain and barely working retina could tell." She laid her crossed arms on the table and picked at her food. "You two have beef or something?"

The group took a neighboring table, their voices doubling the volume of the cafeteria and garnering attention from surrounding students. Lounging back, Mason surveyed the room like it was his domain. When his gaze landed on Link, his jaw flexed in response and he turned away. As far as first encounters went in their new dynamic, that wasn't bad. Donovan didn't want to know how it would have gone if Mason knew the truth instead of having speculations.

"Apparently you do have beef," Carter said. "What is it?"

Unable to meet her eyes, Link picked apart the edge of his sandwich.

"Do you ever get tired of being smart?" Donovan asked swooping in again to shield Link.

"Always," Carter said.

It was an immediate response as if she had already come to terms with being the smartest person in the room and the burden it came with.

At this, Link raised his head, the ghost of a smile playing around his lips.

"It was just a question, Link," she said. "Answer. Don't answer. It's your choice. Punch me in the face if you want. Although I wouldn't advise that last one. I'd lay you out flat before you knew what happened."

Donovan's mouth twitched at this, knowing she would come face to face with him before she could as so much raise a finger. He drank from his water bottle to hide the slip of emotion. As Link glanced over at Mason for a split second, he gave a weak shrug.

"We've met a couple of times. They were never good interactions. That's all," Link said, his voice controlled, though tension seeped through.

Carter studied his face for a long second, then picked up another chicken finger.

"All right," she said. "You wouldn't be the first to have a bad run-in with Mason. Heck, if he wasn't the First Son, I would have murdered him ages ago."

The stiffness in Link's shoulders diminished as he chuckled and Donovan knew this girl wasn't going to be forced out of their lives any time soon.

**********

Donovan stopped the Mercedes alongside the curb and cut the engine. As he stepped out, the chilly night rushed forward to embrace him. The sky was washed with patches of clouds that dimmed the silver moon's gaze. The surrounding houses were mostly darkened with the late hour and early mornings calling for early bedtimes.

As Donovan cut across the road towards his old private high school, he pulled up the hood of his jacket, obscuring his face. It was an unneeded precaution since the residents of the stately homes weren't likely to be peering from their windows at their police protected streets. He walked a block before spotting the high, brick wall.

Lounging in the shade of the barrier was Brock. His hood was settled on his head, his car parked further down the road. As Donovan approached, Brock straightened. Broader and a few inches taller than Donovan, he had their father's commanding stance and the lighter skin tone of his Germanic ancestors. The two brothers said nothing in greeting, instead, Donovan nodded and Brock followed. They skimmed the wall until they reached a point where a tall tree rested its limbs on the top.

Brock knelt and laced his fingers together. Donovan placed his foot into the makeshift step and jumped for the wall's ledge. The rough surface dug into his palms as he hoisted himself up. Peering over the edge, he spotted the security camera, right where he remembered it would be. He reached out and unplugged one of the cables, disabling it.

He then dropped half of his body over the rim and stretched his arms back towards Brock. When he felt his brother's hands clasp his wrists, he pressed his foot against the wall and hauled him up, using gravity as leverage. The pair dropped to the ground, a line of manicured brushed hiding them.

In silence, they crossed the trimmed lawn towards the school. It was a mix of modern and old, red brick interlocked with large windows. The effect was a strange tangle of the past and the future. At the rear, they climbed a set of stairs to a back door. It was locked. Donovan knelt and pulled out a set of lock picks, going to work as Brock kept watch.

"Should I be worried about you owning a set of lock picks?" his older brother asked.

"I have a lot of time on my hands."

"And taking up picking locks is how you've decided to use it?"

"Boredom inspires curiosity."

As if to reaffirm this statement, the lock clicked and Donovan swung the door open. They stepped inside and shut the door, dropping them into darkness. They both pulled out small flashlights and flicked them on. Brock swept his light over the hallway, the beam bouncing off trophy cases.

"This is what high school is like then," he said, having been the one to pioneer the homeschool route in their family.

"It's as glamorous as a prison," Donovan said, leading the way down the hall.

"How is the new school?" Brock asked, sweeping his light across a row of maroon lockers.

"Same as this one. I'd rather take a gun in my mouth."

Brock's light shone in Donovan's face. "Have you talked to mom lately?"

Donovan's gaze cut to his brother and he shoved the flashlight away.

"Lay off it," he said. "School is dull, I'm not suicidal."

"Still."

Donovan didn't answer. He hadn't, knowing that his therapist mother would sense the fracturing of his resolve and want to discuss it. He didn't want to, talking about it would change nothing at this point. All the things Donovan could say to her had already been said before.

"Call her," Brock said. "She misses you."

That nagged at Donovan, it was something he felt as well.

"Fine. How's work? Find a lead on the Henderson case?"

Brock ran a hand through his hair, making his hood fall back.

"No. We're stuck combing through files, bank records, and emails trying to find the tie to Scott's industry. Boring paperwork."

"Beats high school."

"Can't argue with that."

Donovan stopped as they reached a door to the basement. It was unlocked and the two of them descended. Stretched out overhead were lines of piping and electrical wires. The floor was packed with a maze of crates, storage containers, and electrical boxes.

"Did they specify where the mold was located?" Brock asked, the beam of light tracing over the ceiling.

"No, it looks like we're exploring."

Donovan didn't know what he hoped to find down there. If it was as the school administration had said and there was a mold problem then their current transfer was simply a coincidence. But if the whole thing was a lie then that meant that Link was in danger, but who lay behind it was completely unknown. The last six years had been a string of uninteresting events. All of them had fit within the normal fold of a middle schooler and high schooler's life.

As they moved deeper in and had yet to find anything, Donovan felt his body tensing. They rounded a stack of crates when he heard the crinkle of plastic. His eyes snapped to his brother as if to confirm that what he heard was real.

Their eyes meeting, both brothers whipped out guns from behind their backs and raised them. Brock signaled to himself then motioned left. Donovan nodded in understanding. They split, moving to the walls of the basement. Donovan crept forward, swinging his flashlight behind him as he went, checking for an ambush.

His heart beat against his ribs as he kept his breathing steady. A hum of adrenaline coursed through him, exciting his blood and electrifying his nerves. He gripped the gun, the weight and feel of it an extension of who he was. At that moment he felt like he was awake for the first time in a long time.

He edged around an electrical box and spotted the beam of Brock's flashlight. Only a few feet away from them was a wall of plastic. Nodding at each other, they came together and paused outside the slit. Donavon flexed his fingers around the gun's hand, his blood pounding in his ears.

With another shared look, they swung their weapons into the opening, the light slicing through the darkness.

There was no reaction. Beyond the plastic, the space was empty except for a whirring machine at the center. On one side was a fan and it stirred the air around them, making the plastic react and crinkle. The pair stepped through and it was then the smell of mold hit them. Donovan raised his light and scanned the ceiling. Black patches of rot were soaked into the plaster.

"Seems they told the truth," Brock said, putting his gun away.

With a sigh, Donovan tucked his weapon away as well.

"It appears so."

"You wishing we had faced some action?"

Donovan said nothing, but the confirmation was there. Brock punched Donovan's arm.

"Let's get a beer, maybe we can talk up a couple of girls."

The pair retreated through the plastic and headed towards the entrance.

"That's only a complication," Donovan said.

"I never said anything about long term."

Donovan cut his gaze to his older brother. "Remind me how mom reacted when she heard what happened between you and the Colonel's daughter?"

Brock winced. "Fair point. Fine, we'll simply go get a beer."

"I should get back to the apartment."

Even as he said it, Donovan hated the silence that waited for him there. As if knowing this, Brock clapped a hand on Donovan's shoulder, jostling him. "Then we'll pick up beer on the way."

**********************************************************************

Hold it right there!

That's right, you better not go on without reading this amazing, stupendous, exhilarating author's note!

Okay, so maybe I hyped it up to much. It will be about an average author's note. Maybe a little subpar. Okay since that is the case feel free to move on with your lives.

Any who! I hope you liked this chapter! If you want to tell me what you thought of it feel free to do so! 💬💭🗯

This chapter has been in my head for over a month, but you know how life goes, you're writing three other books and a single chapter slips through the cracks.

More than ever I love the dynamic between the brothers and how they all love each other and how they all are protective of Donovan.

I grew up with five brothers and it always amazed me how they managed to piss each other off, fight, but still love and care about each other. It's one of the things I find really fascinating about guys, they get angry fast but they are able to also forgive and forget pretty fast as well.

Vote, comment, follow but only if you think it's worth it.

What do we think of him for Brock?

It should be illegal to be this hot!